Dark Fantasy Normalized-Chapter 88: Master?

The young Swordmaster realized it — far too late.

The reason why his master had let go of him. The quality he had been lacking.

He recalled the sword of his master.

The image contained within that sword resembled a withered flower.

The Swordmaster had never understood the meaning of that sword. But now, he felt like he finally could.

It had been an unquenched thirst.

Since it was dry, it deserved to be soaked. If even after soaking, the thirst could not be relieved, then one only needed to savor the thirst itself.

The wastrel attained enlightenment. He was no longer a wastrel.

▷ Destiny 8: On the Edge of the Boundary

─────

"Wow..."

Pyun, the owner of the armory shop Blue Steel Sword, couldn't help but let out a small gasp.

To see a weapon that had passed through her own hands, held by the hand of a great swordsman, making a name for itself — that was the greatest honor and dream for any Dwarf.

Thus, Dwarves always harbored deep interest in the race of swordsmen.

The Outer Sword, the Swordmaster. The one who stubbornly clung to a single blade.

It was one of the topics that could drive Dwarves absolutely mad with excitement.

That was why, when the Outer Sword had once walked into her shop seeking advice about weapons, Pyun had almost lost her mind.

The beloved sword of the Outer Sword — to think that it was none other than an Ego Sword!

And more than that — that Ego Sword had been his master!

Pyun’s small body practically quivered. Even with the information she had gathered so far, she was so excited she felt she might pass out.

She was barely restraining herself from running straight to the Dwarven tavern to boast about it to everyone she knew.

But now, yet another shocking piece of information had been added.

"The Outer Sword's master... took a new disciple?"

A piece of news so monumental that all the previous revelations seemed almost trivial in comparison!

The Ego Sword, who had once accepted the Outer Sword as her disciple — had abandoned him and chosen a new disciple instead.

And that new disciple was some young greenhorn who even looked like a wizard!!!

Pyun, practically steaming with excitement, stared intently at the scene unfolding before her.

"..."

The Outer Sword’s clear inability to easily accept the news only made the sight even more thrilling for the Dwarf.

Since just a moment ago, he had been standing there utterly dazed, unable to recover from the shock.

"...No."

At last, the Outer Sword muttered firmly. The Swordmaster’s body emanated a surge of intense, hostile energy.

"Ooooh...!!!"

The Dwarven maiden’s eyes sparkled uncontrollably.

The composure of the Swordmaster had broken. It was a sight so rare it felt like witnessing a miracle.

She fixed her gaze, burning with curiosity, on the face of the man who had caused all this turmoil.

Who in the world is he?!

The nameless "genius swordsman" who had earned the acknowledgment of the Outer Sword's master, and even provoked envy from the Outer Sword himself.

***

Rodan stared into Lisir’s eyes.

Among everyone he had encountered recently, this one was the most interesting.

Tracking down a cultist hiding inside the city was as difficult as finding a needle in a desert.

If he had been in Lisir’s place, would he have been able to thwart Dranoff’s schemes the way Lisir had?

Probably not.

Had it not been for Lisir, the plan of Dranoff, the high priest of the Pale Shadow Church, would never have been stopped.

And so, Rodan admitted it to himself: he had no intention of denying that this man was extraordinary.

However...

That and this were two separate matters.

Master...!

The nameless being sealed within the Ego Sword.

Yes.

Nameless.

Rodan still didn’t even know her name.

Moreover, she had never once truly acknowledged him as a disciple. She had never directly taught him even a single lesson.

The sword that she left behind contained a will so faint it was barely discernible.

The indirect teaching, left behind like unfinished homework — that was all she had ever given to Rodan.

Even so, Rodan revered her as an irreplaceable master.

Because the power she had granted him had allowed him to break through the wall and reach the Eighth Rank. Because it had allowed him to escape from the shadow of his mother.

Now, having fulfilled his lifelong desire of freeing himself from that shadow, the only wish left to Rodan was to earn his master's acknowledgment.

He had vowed to himself: he would solve the riddle she had left behind, receive her true teaching, and be reborn as a proper disciple.

The sudden parting had come before he could fulfill any of those hopes.

The sword that could no longer be drawn from its scabbard. The voice that no longer responded.

A separation with no promise of reunion. An absence that gnawed at his mind to its breaking point.

To the extent that the arrogant Swordmaster had been willing to approach the cultists and lower his head to them.

And now, through someone else's mouth, he finally heard news of his master.

That she had taken a new disciple, abandoning him.

Through that, the meaning behind everything became perfectly clear.

His master had completely let go of him — and found a new successor in his place.

"There's no way."

How could he accept that?

How could he ever admit it?

Rodan’s fierce will twisted into a wrong direction.

He concluded, without a /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ shred of doubt, that the man before him was a liar — and did not allow even the faintest possibility of it being otherwise.

"Lisir. I misjudged you.

You're just a man of this level?"

Rodan’s warped smile contained unmistakable contempt.

"You claimed you could help me, demanded your payment — but things didn’t go as you expected. Your little friends weren’t of any use, and now you’re left worrying about the consequences. And your big solution to all that? Claiming that you hear the voice of my master. Isn’t that right?"

"..."

Lisir said nothing. Instead, he raised the sword in his hand before Rodan’s eyes.

—Srrk.

The blade slid from the scabbard without resistance.

"...!"

Rodan’s eyes wavered — but only for a moment.

"Master."

He called out to the sword.

"Master."

Her voice did not respond.

No — it was more than that.

Even if her voice did not answer, her presence had always been unmistakably felt.

But now — even that presence was completely gone.

Even the power that had once shattered the wall of the Eighth Rank.

A great disturbance rippled within the Swordmaster’s soul.

His perfect breathing, trained to remain undisturbed under any circumstance, crumbled under the force of his fury.

"You..."

Hup!

The Dwarven girl, who had been watching with sparkling eyes, unconsciously held her breath. She couldn’t even move her gaze.

It felt like standing naked in the middle of a snowy plain, surrounded by a pack of wolves.

The murderous intent was so thick it practically had form, dominating the entire space.

"..."

Rodan’s next words came, low and cold:

"What did you do to my master?"

His hand hovered near the sword at his waist.

***

Klara.

She watched the entire situation unfold from within the inner world, feeling satisfied.

A good flow.

Rodan’s arrogant and stubborn nature. And his obsession toward her.

She was certain. Right now, no voice could reach Rodan’s ears.

This fool would never, ever be able to persuade Rodan.

The best-case scenario played itself out in Klara’s mind: Lisir meeting his death at Rodan’s hands.

It wouldn’t be long now before she could finally escape from this horrifying situation and place. Klara’s lips curved into a smile of expectation.

"I'll ask one last time. Tell me what you did to my master."

"...As I've said repeatedly, I have done nothing to your master."

If Lisir had shown even the slightest sign of panic or hesitation, Rodan would have subdued him without a moment's delay.

However...

Even in the midst of all this, Lisir’s demeanor remained calm and unshaken.

Show even a hint of weakness and you’ll die.

Lisir had already grasped how he needed to deal with someone like Rodan. He was acting with every ounce of his strength to maintain a facade of composure.

"..."

Seeing this, hesitation crept into Rodan’s attitude.

—You halfwit!!! You're disappointing me to the very end!

Klara screamed in frustration, but as expected, her voice didn’t reach Rodan.

"I only spoke the truth. Your master offered me the position of disciple."

"..."

Lisir, true to his words, was simply stating the facts. His attitude was confident — and that very confidence stirred hesitation within Rodan.

"Why..."

Thus, Lisir succeeded in creating a crack — not in Rodan’s defenses, but in his heart.

Lisir peered into Rodan’s inner self through that crack.

He realized — the emotion moving Rodan right now wasn’t anger, but fear.

To persuade someone consumed by anger was an almost impossible task. But to persuade someone consumed by fear?

It was surprisingly simple.

At least, that’s what Lisir believed.

Thus, without hesitation, he moved into action.

"In truth, it was all for your sake."

"...What?"

Lisir’s mind spun at high speed.

Now. What's the best situation I can create? And — what’s needed to create it?

Naturally, his focus turned toward her.

The root cause of all this.

The murderous spirit that had seized his inner world—

No — the Ego Sword that had now become his.

"..."

At that moment, Lisir sensed a certain power within himself, along with the Ego Sword.

A possibility flashed across his mind.

Without hesitation, he reached out and unfolded the Ego Sword’s power.

"That is—!"

Shock colored Rodan’s face.

From the blue lotus in Lisir’s grasp, a subtle image radiated outward.

A withered flower.

"Master...?"

Rodan looked at Lisir and — before realizing it — voiced the name aloud.

Because there was no mistaking it. That was unmistakably the Master’s sword.

—What...?!

Klara was struck speechless.

She had no memory of ever granting that sword to him. And yet — here he was, unfolding her sword.

"Master— Master! Are you there!?"

Rodan’s desperate cry only heightened Klara’s frustration.

—Yes! I'm right here!!! Your master is trapped here!!! So hurry, stain that sword with blood!!! You half-baked fool—!!!

"Yes. She’s here, listening to your voice. Borrowing my body — to leave you one final teaching."

"What... A final teaching...?"

Rodan stared blankly at Lisir’s sword.

No — he stared at his Master’s sword.

His eyes widened.

The image contained within the sword was shifting moment by moment.

The withered flower — now bloomed into full, vivid life.

***

[You have acquired a Unique Skill.]

▶ Unique Skill: Unbloomed Flower (Grade C-)

[Your Unique Skill reacts to your Trait!]

[Unique Skill has been enhanced.]

▶ Unique Skill: Bloomed Flower (Grade C+)

***

"She said this: You are... far from being a sword that thirsts for blood. That you could never become a blade that craves blood."

A pang of guilt followed Lisir’s flexible interpretation.

For the first time, a trace of deceit appeared on Lisir’s face.

But...

Rodan, right now, could not see through it.

He was too entranced. Too utterly focused on what felt like the first warm words his master had ever given him. The first true teaching she had ever offered him.

—You brazen bastard!!!

—I never said such a thing!!!

—Rodan!!! You’ll never be anything special!!!

—You’re neither hero nor villain — just a middling failure!!!

—But if you take one step further — you could become your true self!

—Rodan!!!

—Kill him!!!

—If you do, I’ll give you everything!!!

Klara shouted inside the sword.

Rodan savored his master's words.

"Far from a sword that thirsts for blood..."

The Swordmaster — the Outer Sword — carried out the action he had hesitated to perform until now.

He drew a different sword — not the Ego Sword that symbolized the Outer Sword.

Holding the new blade, Rodan closed his eyes.

Calmly, he submerged into his inner world.

The shadow of his mother. The shadow of his master.

He faced himself, stripped of all shadows.

Truthfully —

Rodan was someone far removed from Lisir’s optimistic interpretation.

His nature wasn’t purely evil — but neither was it purely good.

An arrogant wastrel. The image he carried now was true to the essence he had been born with.

Yet, he had desperately yearned for his master's teaching. And her warmth — that alone had been enough to change his perspective.

I...

The self Rodan faced within himself was muddy, dirty.

—You’ll never be a sword that thirsts for blood.

It was a self that betrayed his master's faith.

He felt ashamed.

Thus, he denied it.

That wasn’t his true self.

If he truly wished for it, he could change — as much as he wanted.

There was no reason to doubt. His master’s belief surely had a foundation.

"..."

When Rodan opened his eyes again, the sword in his hand came into view.

A blade perfectly filled with no trace of imperfection — a sword that contained a fully bloomed flower.

The wastrel attained enlightenment. He was no longer a wastrel.

"Master..."

Rodan gazed upon the blue lotus with calm, serene eyes.

And then — it happened.

The image contained within the blue lotus began to fade.

—Rodan!!! You idiot!!!

Rodan, watching the fading image, thought: it was like a faint smile befitting a farewell.

Thus, Rodan too smiled faintly in reply to his master.

Lisir matched the moment by letting the sword fall from his hand.

"Master... Thank you for everything."

Rodan bid farewell to his master.

—No!!! Please, pull me out of here!!! Rodan!!! My disciple!!!

Master and disciple. It was a clean farewell — free of lingering regrets.

***

■ Rodan

Level: 68 → 70

New Unique Skill: Complete Flower (Grade C)

***

■ Lisir

Level: 52(44) → 52

***

──────────

▷ Destiny 8: On the Edge of the Boundary — Deactivated.

Corresponding rewards will be granted.

──────────

***

—"Master."

A voice called out to Klara, who was left in despair.

—"I’m counting on you from now on, okay?"

Just when she had been thirsting to plunge her sword deeper, a precious(?) connection had come along.

Lisir smiled brightly.

—Ah, ah...

The Murderous Spirit —felt the emotion of fear for the first time.